Twelve Nights (11 page)

“This is Aggie,” his brother introduced simply.

“Hi,” she offered with her hand.

Her grip was perfect, the muscles strong and the skin soft.

“I’m Jimmy Buko.”

He signaled for the waiter to bring another chair, then
guided the young woman into the seat himself. He and Danny sat flanking her on
either side.

“Do you have a last name, Aggie?”

“It’s Trout. Aggie Trout.”

“I’m hooked,” Jimmy laughed then winced. “You must have
heard that a million times.”

“Maybe a few,” Aggie smiled.

“So, you’re Danny’s friend,” Jimmy tried again. Stupid, he
thought. That’s obvious.

“Actually,” Aggie began.

For the first and perhaps only time in his life, Danny
interrupted.

“Yes,” he stated. “Aggie is my friend.”

“I’m glad,” Jimmy smiled. He shut the tap on his flowing
hormones. He couldn’t think these thoughts about a woman with Danny.

“What do you do, Aggie?” Surely that was an innocuous
question.

“I’m a librarian.”

Jimmy waited in vain for her to elaborate. Maybe she had
Danny’s habit of terse speech. The young woman shook herself and her hair
fluttered around her head. Jimmy resisted the instant but trite image of a
halo. Then she seemed to come alive.

“What do you do?” she asked. Her eyes shot sparks of
mischief. He bet she knew exactly who he was.

“I work for TransGlobe. I’m an accountant.”

Jimmy waited for Danny to call his bluff. His brother smiled
and remained silent. Jimmy watched the young woman’s face closely. Was that
disappointment? If so, she recovered quickly.

“I’m not from Canada, so I don’t know much about TransGlobe.
What do you make?”

Jimmy would rather talk about her.

“Transactions.” He borrowed a sentence from Danny’s
abbreviated grammar. “Where are you from?”

“I’m originally from Alabama,” she began.

“You don’t have an accent,” he interrupted.

“Not any more. I moved to Cincinnati to go to university.
Then I stayed there to work after I graduated.”

“What brought you to Vancouver?”

The young woman glanced uncertainly at Danny.

“She answered your ad, Jimmy,” he answered for her.

Jimmy’s shoulders unconsciously straightened. He caught the
young woman’s alert smile out of the corner of his eye.

“Did Richard send you over with Danny?” he asked.

“No. He rejected me.”

“Why?” If she was as intelligent as she appeared, the woman
probably read her eventual acceptance from that single word. Where had his
poker face and voice disappeared to?

“He didn’t trust me,” she smiled. Her eyes added,
but you can.

Jimmy struggled to retreat mentally. He trusted Richard’s
judgment. There must be a flaw in the perfect woman.

“Why?” he repeated like a parrot. Where had his wits gone?
Straight to the bulge that inflated his pants.

“He didn’t like it that I wrote from New York but I work in
Cincinnati. I explained that I was visiting a cousin and used her box number,
but he didn’t believe me.”

The young woman looked less than at ease for the first time
since she had recognized his attraction to her. Richard was probably right. She
was probably lying.

“Was there anything else?” he continued to probe.

“He asked me why I wanted the money and I didn’t have an
answer right away.”

“Why
do
you want
the money?”

“It’s not the money,” she began. Jimmy’s incredulous
expression must have stopped her. After a moment, she carried on.

“It’s a lot of money,” she agreed. “I do want the money, of
course, but I was more intrigued to meet a man who would write an ad like that.
You’re not really an accountant, are you?”

The abrupt question caught Jimmy by surprise.

“No,” he admitted. He was saved from further comment by the
waiter.

Once the orders were taken, the young woman went back on the
attack.

“You own TransGlobe, right?”

“Yes,” Jimmy admitted.

“I’ve seen it on the Exchange. You must be worth a lot of
money.”

“Lots.”

“I bet you got a lot of gold-diggers answering the ad.”

“Almost nothing but.”

“Well, I’m not after your money. Not any more than the one
twenty K anyway.”

“Why not?” Jimmy was intrigued. He found he liked the sound
of her voice.

“I like my job,” Aggie explained. “I like working. Big money
scares me.”

“Why does it scare you?”

“You know the saying about power corrupts? Well, I imagine
money corrupts too.”

“So you think I must be corrupt?”

The woman gave him a hard look. Jimmy mentally stripped
himself bare before her. Their eyes held until hers lowered as her face
flushed.

“No,” she responded thoughtfully. “I don’t think you’re
corrupt. At least not yet.”

Jimmy laughed. Before he could think of an adequate
response, the waiter brought their lunches. Jimmy ate raw oysters followed by
clam chowder. Danny had ordered salmon and Aggie a seafood crepe. Aggie winced
as Jimmy picked up an oyster shell and slid the gooey mollusk down his throat.

“I don’t see how you can eat those things,” she commented.

“They’re delicious,” Jimmy commented. “Just think, if
Richard hadn’t rejected you, I could have made you eat them every night.”

“Oh, God.” Aggie made a grotesque face. “I thought you just
wanted sex!”

Jimmy made up his mind on the spot. This was the one. Maybe
not for the rest of his life, but definitely for the next twelve nights.

“If you still want the job, it’s yours,” he offered
casually.

“What?” she asked.

“Do you still want to,” Jimmy fumbled for words. “To do what
the ad said, for twelve nights?”

Aggie grinned.

“Would you make me eat oysters?” she teased.

“I might,” Jimmy teased back.

“I would throw up,” Aggie warned. “My mother wanted to give
me some medicine one time and I warned her I would throw up. She gave it to me
anyway and I did. Throw up, I mean.”

“What a lovely lunch table topic,” Jimmy commented.

“I just want you to know that I mean what I say.”

“You’ll agree to everything but oysters?”

“Yes,” the young woman answered without hesitation. She
almost sounded eager. Jimmy was glad he wouldn’t be standing up for another few
minutes. It would give him time to subdue the bulge.

“We’ll go back to the office when we’re finished with lunch.
I’m sure Richard will be relieved that the hard part is over.”

“The hard part?” Aggie’s words held laughter and double
entendre.

“The interviewing,” Jimmy clarified.

“Oh, that hard part,” Aggie nodded. “I assume there will be
other hard parts?”

“You can put money on it,” Jimmy agreed. His cock pressed
solid into the zipper seam of his trousers and he shifted in his seat. Jesus,
she saw that, too. Her eyes caught too damn much. Maybe he should start tonight
instead of tomorrow.

“I brought the contract.” Danny spoke for the first time in
several minutes.

“You what?” Jimmy asked, ninety percent of his attention
still on his cock and the young woman across the table.

“I brought the contract,” Danny repeated. “You can sign
here.”

Jimmy looked thoughtfully at his younger brother.

“You knew she’d be the one, didn’t you?” he asked.

“I knew,” Danny admitted.

“So you brought her to lunch.”

“I knew.”

“And you brought the contract.”

Danny’s lips remained closed. He seldom repeated himself
more than twice. Jimmy took the contract from his outstretched hand and offered
it to Aggie with a pen.

“Don’t you want to read it?” he asked as she flipped through
the pages to the signature lines.

“Oh,” she seemed startled. “Yeah, sure.”

Aggie turned back to page one. Her eyes widened at the
diverse list of sexual activities. She took a deep breath that tightened the
sweater across her breasts and appeared to firm her resolve. Jimmy’s cock
throbbed. When she came to the time specifications, she paused.

“Twenty-four hours a day is too much,” she demurred. “We
can’t do it for 288 hours straight anyway.”

“Two hundred eighty-eight?” Jimmy asked.

“Twelve times two for twenty four hours a day, times twelve
days. I just multiplied the twelves first,” Aggie explained as Danny nodded.
She added with a smile, “How do you keep track of your money?”

“I don’t. The ad said ‘companion’,” Jimmy reminded her.
“That’s more than sex.”

“I need some privacy,” she insisted. “I don’t want to move
in with you. Wouldn’t eight hours be enough? Like a regular work day.”

“Six pm to two am,” Danny suggested.

Jimmy thought for a moment. He would be running TransGlobe
during the day anyway. He could afford to capitulate on the small points. He
nodded his agreement.

“What happens if we don’t make it the full twelve days? Do I
get a prorated amount?”

“No.”

“No?” Aggie frowned. “What if I break a leg? What if you
break a leg?”

“The contract is all or nothing. Twelve days or no money.”

“Are you some kind of weird pervert? Are you afraid I’ll
leave? Maybe you’re going to do something awful on the eleventh day so I’ll
leave and you won’t have to pay me.”

Jimmy laughed. “You’re thinking like an American, Aggie. I’m
just an ordinary rich Canadian guy. Nothing up my sleeves.”

“Ordinary,” he repeated. “Rich.”

Aggie shook her head, but she kept reading until she came to
page four.

“This says I indemnify you from all claims for personal
injury.”

“Lawyer talk,” Jimmy waved the words away.

“I don’t mind signing away my right to sue you for unusual
sexual practice and I agree with the privacy section. I don’t want this to
become public any more than you do. I’m a librarian for heaven’s sake.”

“In Cincinnati,” Jimmy agreed. He loved that voice. Maybe
she would keep arguing through the whole afternoon.

“But you have to guarantee that I won’t be injured. Kinky is
one thing, but I’m no masochist.”

“Give me the contract,” Jimmy demanded. He agreed with her
request. He certainly didn’t intend to damage her and had told Richard to write
that into the contract. He thought for a moment, then printed across the bottom
of the contract.
I agree that you will
suffer no physical injury through this contract. This agreement supersedes all
other clauses of the contract.

“How’s that?” he asked.

“I think that’s enough,” Aggie mused. “I wish I was a
lawyer.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, Aggie. I promise.”

She looked again deep into his eyes and Jimmy held her gaze
steadily. He would never hurt this beautiful creature. He sighed in relief when
she broke eye contact and scrawled an unreadable wiggle across the signature
line. He picked up the contract and tried to decipher her signature.

“A. Trout,” she offered. “You’ve landed yourself a fish,
Jimmy.”

“The reeling in was good sport,” he chuckled as he took the
pen from her fingers. “Do you mind if we move the date up? I find I’m eager to
begin.”

“No,” she blurted then blushed.

“Tonight, then.” He pushed back his chair and held out his
hand as she rose. He held a napkin carelessly in front of his trousers, then
caught her look and lowered the napkin to the table. His cock throbbed
painfully under her eyes. How many more hours?

Angela tried to wait patiently for her sister’s return. She
tried to watch television. She tried to read a book. She even tried to
meditate. Nothing worked. Finally she gave up and paced the suite from the door
down the hall to the living room, back down the hall to the bedroom and then
back to the door. She was sure she was wearing a rut in the carpet. The hotel
manager would make her pay for the damage. Aggie wouldn’t get the job for her.
Her life would be ruined. Angela was running toward the bathroom to throw up
when her sister walked calmly through the door.

The gorge vanished.

“Did you get it?” she pounced, grabbing Aggie by both
shoulders and pulling her into the room.

“You have,” Aggie looked at her watch, “three hours.”

“What took you so long?” Angela asked. Then the import of
her sister’s words sank in. “You got it!?!”

“Yes,” Aggie agreed from the center of a smothering hug.

“Three hours?” Angela pulled back and looked at her sister’s
face. “He wants to start tonight?”

Aggie nodded and turned away.

“What’s wrong?” Angela asked. “Is he old and ugly?”

“No.” Aggie thought for a moment. “He’s late thirties or
early forties. He’s not handsome, but he’s not ugly.”

“What does he look like?”

“He’s not very tall, probably about our height, maybe
shorter. Not thin but not fat. But he probably will be in a few more years.”

“Ugh,” Angela made a face. “Does he have any hair?”

“Lots,” Aggie smiled. “Salt and pepper. Very thick. He has a
big nose.”

“For a hundred and twenty thousand dollars, I’ll close my
eyes and pretend he’s Richard Gere.”

“He’s nice, Boo,” Aggie protested. “I liked him.”

Angela brushed the comment aside. “So, tell me everything
that happened. Did you make the tape?”

Aggie pulled the tape recorder out of her purse.

“I got the interview with the lawyer, but the tape ran out
before Jimmy and Danny and I had lunch.”

“Jimmy and Danny and you? Sounds chummy.”

“I got you the money, Angela.”

At last the weariness in her sister’s voice penetrated Angela’s
excitement.

“You poor thing!” she exclaimed. “Lie down on the sofa while
we listen to the tape.”

Aggie hung her coat in the closet and flopped back onto the
couch. Angela pressed the play button and they listened together to the muffled
and mostly silent walk to the apartment.